Poop

Not that I think I'm an expert or anything, but I think I know what's going on with this mothering stuff now. Or at least I did until this morning when I realized that I still don't have a clue. I'll warn you right now, if you are eating your lunch, stop here and read this post later. Still here? Ok, here is today's drama. Lately Quin hasn't been regular, if you know what I mean. The nurse told me to give him water twice a day to help and it's been working pretty well. He grunts and groans and I have a lot of warning when it's going to be a stinky one. Usually enough warning to tell Joe it's his turn for a diaper change, anyhow. So this morning I'm folding laundry - ok watching Nip/Tuck on the DVR while the laundry sits on the couch next to me - and I think I smell something. I figure he farted or something and I'll give him a few minutes. A few minutes later I walk by him in his little bouncy thing and he's being so cute that I just have to take a picture (notice the laundry in the background - it will be folded someday). As I am taking the pictures you see here, I realize he definitely stinks. Do I stop and change him immediately? No! I take a couple more pictures first, then I pick him up and realize that not only does he stink to high heaven, he's mushy. That's the only way I can think to describe it. He's mushy from his thighs to his stomach...and now I can see that he's leaking brown mush through his cute little doggy outfit. Not the PJ's from last night, mind you, because he already peed through those. (On a side note, the money I have saved buying generic diapers must be cancelled out by the amount of extra laundry I have to do because there are twice as many leaks, but I digress.) So I have handled plenty of brown mushy leaks and I am not intimidated by this. I head over to the changing table and get two cloths ready instead of one because I know what I'm doing and this one is really messy. I should have been getting the hose ready instead because two cloths weren't even close to helpful. I took off his outfit and literally let the flood gates loose. So I'm screaming and trying desperately to grab a handful of wipes and I notice Quin looking at me quizzically. His look clearly says "You have no clue do you, mom?" but he's not fazed by any of this. So I decide there is no hope but for a bath and that's all well and good but now he's naked, covered in poop, and I don't know how to get him over to the bath without getting poop on everything else. So, I put a cloth over him in case he squirts (like that matters at this point) and I try to clean up a bit. I wipe up some of the poop on his clothes, his body, and his changing table. I put the diaper in the diaper genie...and disaster strikes. I mean worse than the time I ate some of his poop by accident because I thought it was mustard under my nail, although that was pretty nasty. Anyone who has experienced a diaper genie knows that you have to push the diaper through this little hole and then it seals itself shut and supposedly you don't get any yucky smells. Well, when I go to push the diaper down it just squishes everywhere and suddenly I'm up to my wrist in poop! But wait, it gets worse. I clean myself up with some wipes, all while trying to hold Quin with one hand lest he fall off the changing table. I continue doing what needs to be done for a bath, getting the towel and face cloth, getting the poopy clothes ready for the laundry, etc. As I'm about to head to the bath, I notice some poop on the bottle of Shout I used to spray his clothes. And poop on the drawer of the changing table, and poop on Quin's elbow. I still had poop on my hand and didn't know it! I left a trail of poop all over his room! Anyhow, I finally got him into the bath and I'm pretty sure I cleaned everything up. Now he's sitting next to me in his little chair playing with his toys and doing what else? Pooping. So much for not being regular!